


Sweetness Fills the Air

by LourdesDeath



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Adaptation, Alternate Universe, Ballet, Christmas, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/F, Fluff, Hydra, M/M, Magic, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Steampunk, The Nutcracker, Victorian era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 17,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9053293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LourdesDeath/pseuds/LourdesDeath
Summary: When Steve is given a nutcracker as a Christmas present, he assumes it will be like any other gift, but then he finds a gigantic mouse in his living room...





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every attempt was made to make this fic as NOT racist as possible, but the ballet (upon which I based the story) is hella fucking racist, so it was a bit of a challenge.
> 
> Title comes from the carol Lo, How a Rose E'er Blooming:   
> "O Flower, whose fragrance tender  
> With sweetness fills the air,  
> Dispel with glorious splendour  
> The darkness everywhere;..."

The snow fell upon the frozen world like icing sugar onto a cake. The sun remained hidden behind the clouds, too shy to melt away the ice, too tired to warm the earth.

It may have looked bleak and lifeless, but the people of the city milled about as always, cheer wrapped around them like heavy scarves. Their hope was a source of warmth at a time when the sun could not be.

Laughter rang out in the street as children played in the snow. Their parents watched over them, hesitant to display their joy but bright-eyed with the same mirth and the memories of their own years spent frolicking in the snow.

It was a time of hope, a time to believe.

The warmth would return.

The sun would awaken.

Good would triumph over evil.


	2. Chapter 2

Anticipation for the party was a low hum through the walls of the house. Steve peeked out his windows and watched for any guests entering the house, bringing warmth and cheer to his home through the low light of the cold winter evening.

“Steve?” he heard his mother call with a knock at his door.

Steve brushed his fingers through his hair to keep it neat and opened the door.

His mother beamed down at him. “Well, don’t you look grown up?” she said, her hands resting on his shoulders and placing a kiss on his hair. “Are you ready to come downstairs?” she asked.

“Yes, mother.”

She straightened up, and held her hands out a little. “How do I look?”

Her dress was a dusky pink with a light blue sash to match her gloves. Steve would never say it to his friends, but she was the prettiest of anyone’s mothers. Her blonde curls cascaded from the top of her head to her shoulders.

“Perfect,” he said, smiling.

She grinned and held out her hand for him. “Come, now. The guests are arriving.”

They walked down the hallway to the stairs, where they had a perfect view of the front door.

Snow blew into the house as the door opened for a group of people. They removed their coats and Steve realized who it was.

“Hello, Sarah!” Steve’s uncle called up the stairs as he removed his fur coat.

Steve followed his mother down the stairs to exchange hugs as his mother greeted her sister and brother-in-law.

“Oh, Clara, Frederick,” she said, “I’m so glad you could come.”       

A face peeked out from behind Steve’s Aunt Clara’s skirt. “Hello, Jack!” Steve said, but Jack just went back to hiding from him. Steve wasn’t very disappointed. He and Jack didn’t get along very well, and he was happy to talk with the adults instead of being stuck trying to play with Jack while Jack cried.

The door opened again and Steve’s mother asked him to lead his aunt and uncle to the tree so they could put down the stack of presents they’d brought. Jack followed behind, his little stuffed rabbit clutched to his chest.

“What’s the matter with your tree?” Jack asked, plucking at his rabbit’s ears.

Steve looked up at him from where he was bent over stacking the gifts his uncle had been holding under the tree.

“Jack, that wasn’t very nice to say,” his mother replied with an apologetic glance in Steve’s direction.

“But it’s all wrong!” Jack said. “There are no candles or decorations or anything!”

“My godfather asked us to wait,” Steve replied.

“Why’s that?” Aunt Clara placed a final present under the tree.

Steve shrugged. “He said it was a surprise.”

He hears the front door open and the chattering of guests as his parents lead them in.

“Ah, Fred! Clara!” his father booms, arm in arm with Steve’s mother as he passes the threshold of the room with a group of people. “It’s so lovely to see you!”

Steve and Jack are left by the tree while the adults hug and kiss and Steve’s parents introduce everyone.

Jack looked torn between the choice of joining his parents or staying away from the group and finally decided on sitting on the floor, his rabbit placed in front of him like a furry sentinel.

Steve walked over to his parents, where he was introduced to the other guests. The younger children stood long enough for their names to be said then ran over to the tree to play near Jack, who looked less than pleased to share the space. The few of them old enough to behave around adults stood and listened quietly. He did his best to follow the overlapping conversations, as the adults chattered about the weather and gossiped about their neighbors. His father’s associate’s wife noticed the piano and asked if she could play for the party.

“Oh, mother!” the girl next to him cried. “Can we dance?”

The woman at the piano chuckled. “If Mr. and Mrs. Rogers don’t mind, you may.”

The girl looked expectantly at Steve’s parents.

“Of course, my dear!” his father chuckled at her wide-eyed stare. “I think a dance is a wonderful idea.”

Steve wasn’t surprised when his father’s hands rested on his shoulders and gave him a gentle shove.

“May I dance with you, Miss Whitehurst?” he asked, bowing.

Miss Whitehurst giggled and nodded, taking his arm as the couples lined up.

As Mrs. Whitehurst started playing, Steve grinned and let his feet lead him instead of his mind.

Some of the younger children started dancing near the tree, and Steve was happy to see that Jack was taking part.

The dance was only moderately fast-paced, so his breathing only got a little rough. Miss Whitehurst laughed her way through the dance, and Steve tried not to concentrate on his discomfort.

He planned on asking to be excused for the second dance to catch his breath, but the moment the last chord rippled through the air, the front door shuddered with a booming knock.

The entire party froze with the sound. Steve listened when the door was opened, and he heard the voice of his governess, Susan, as she greeted the new guest. There was a cool breeze through the room, and Susan entered arm-in-arm with the new arrival.

“Godfather Abraham!” Steve exclaimed as they came in, and bowed to Miss Whitehurst before running to say hello.

They shared a warm hug as the others gathered around.

“This is Dr. Abraham Erskine,” his father said to the rest of the room. “One of the most clever men I’ve ever met and my son’s godfather.” He clapped Abraham on the shoulder. “Do you have any of those wonderful tricks of yours with you?”

“I do not, unfortunately,” Abraham replied, and sneezed. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and the children giggled as the little square of fabric grew longer and longer, until it hung all the way to the floor. He folded it up in his hands, gave it a sharp tug, and the handkerchief was suddenly a normal size.

Even the adults seemed amazed as he blew his nose and tucked it back away again.

Steve’s father shook his head. “I’ll never know how you do that.”

“I had gifts delivered for the children,” Abraham said in his soft German accent. “Did you receive them?”

“Yes, they arrived this morning,” Steve’s mother answered. “They were quite heavy, or so our porter said.”

Abraham strode to the tree.

“We left the tree bare as you requested,” his mother said.

There were two boxes behind the tree that were large enough to fit Steve and Jack and maybe Miss Whitehurst as well. Abraham ran his fingers over the boxes before looking up. “It will take me a moment to prepare them,” he said. “Perhaps the children could play elsewhere for a time, so it may be a surprise. Steven can stay and assist us.”

“Absolutely,” Steve’s father said, and before long, the other children were being ushered out by Susan.

“But I want to see!” Jack cried, dragging his rabbit on the ground.

“You’ll see when they’re finished,” Susan replied, as yielding as a brick wall.

There were a few boxes of decorations in the corner, but first Abraham searched through one of the smaller boxes he’d had sent and pulled a long string from it. It looked to Steve like a long, wound piece of twine with small Christmas baubles hanging from it.

“What’s that, Godfather?” he asked, reaching out to touch the colored baubles.

“It is the reason why I asked you not to decorate your tree,” he responded, handing Steve one end of the sting, which had a box about the size of Steve’s palm. “Please do not let them touch the floor. They are quite delicate.”

Steve held tightly to his end of it as Abraham untangled the string. It seemed quite difficult, and the other adults had to be asked for help a few times, but soon enough there was a single string that was nearly the length of the room.

Abraham gave the other end of the string to Steve’s father and took the box from Steve’s hand. He found a particularly thick branch of the tree and rested the box there. He then instructed Steve’s father to circle the tree as he spiraled it up the branches all the way to the top of the tree.

“I don’t understand, Abe,” Steve’s father said. “The ornaments are hardly large enough to see from a foot away.”

“These are not ornaments, my friend.” He bent down to the little box Steve had held and opened a panel on it that Steve hadn’t noticed. A bright blue light shone from the panel and, when Abraham turned a knob on it, all of the little baubles on the string sparkled with the same blue light.

Everyone in the room gasped.

“How have you done this?” Mrs. Philips asked.

“A magician, my good lady,” Abraham said, “never reveals his secrets.”

Steve giggled and helped his mother unpack the normal ornaments and hung them on the branches of the tree, still captivated by the tiny blue lights.

While Abraham tinkered with whatever filled the huge boxes, Steve’s father and the other tall parents decorated the top of the tree while Steve and his mother worked on the lower branches. The large group made quick work of the tree, and Steve was even lifted up by his father to place the shining golden star at the very top.


	3. Chapter 3

The younger children shrieked with joy at the tree. To Steve, it looked like it had fairies hiding behind the ornaments.

The parents were all rooting around in the stacks of presents for each child’s gifts. Steve watched Jack open his gift and pull out a drum. It was only a matter of seconds before he was running around banging on it, his rabbit abandoned by the tree.

Steve’s own gift, wrapped in red and silver paper and topped with a blue bow, contained a set of watercolors and several fine paintbrushes. He’d remembered staring at them in a store a few weeks ago, and had had no idea his parents had purchased them.

He hugged his mother and father and thanked them, promising to practice with his old paints before using the watercolors.

There was a scraping noise, and Steve looked over to see Abraham and their butler Thomas pushing one of the large boxes to the center of the room.

“Children, this is a gift for all of you,” he said. “I hope it pleases you.”

The children gathered around the box. George Allan, who was only a little older than Jack, put his hand on the brightly colored wrapping, and they all jumped back as the lid of the box started opening on its own.

The thing that came out of it looked like a man, but was clearly made of metal. It was painted with bright golds and crimsons, and there was a circle of light in the center of its chest that was the same bright blue as the lights on the tree.

It pushed on the front of the box, which landed on the floor with a thud, and stepped towards the children. Its face—if it could be called that—had lights where eyes would’ve been, but it swung its head around as if it was examining them.

One of the little girls started crying and the thing began to walk towards her, the tops of its shoulders opening up to reveal tubes that looked like gun barrels. Everyone seemed too terrified by it to try and rescue the girl.

Steve felt his feet moving before he had made the decision to walk. He crouched in front of her like a shield if the thing chose to attack, and stared it down even as it towered above him.

“Abe—” he heard his father say, but his words were cut off when the thing finally moved again.

It tapped one foot on the floor, then the other, then broke into an elaborate tap dance. It waved its arms along with the beat as it moved through the room.

The little girl stopped crying and giggled as the thing did a cartwheel, and everyone clapped delightedly as it struck a pose, the guns in its shoulders making a cracking noise and shooting off streamers and confetti.

There was a great cheer from the children, but the thing bent forward, like a clockwork toy whose spring had worn out.

While the thing was lifted up and stored away in its box , a second was dragged to the center of the room. It opened before anyone could run up and touch it.

The second figure was taller but more slender and pitch black with a few silver accents instead of red and gold.

This one didn’t step from the box, but leapt out like a cat. It landed on all fours before flipping up onto its hands, its body held perfectly straight. It remained like that for a moment before curling backwards, allowing its toes to rest on the floor, its back a graceful arch.

It stood back up slowly.

Bouncing on the balls of its feet, it jumped into the air with a backflip. It landed on one foot, and pirouetted. Its twirls mesmerized the room as it spun around and around like a top.

The silver accents flashed in the light, in contrast to the matte black of its “skin”.

It halted suddenly, posing with its back arched and its arms raised triumphantly.

The room exploded with cheers and applause.


	4. Chapter 4

There was one final gift from Abraham, although it was much smaller than the other two. He opened it slowly and pulled out a nutcracker.

The children, still excited from the dolls’ dances, ran over to see it.

The nutcracker was about the length of Abraham’s forearm and looked like a man in a blue coat. Oddly, it didn’t have a hat or any facial hair, but Steve liked it all the same.

There was a big bag of walnuts in the box as well, and Abraham started to break them open for the children.

Jack laughed when Abraham gave him a large piece of walnut out of the mouth of the nutcracker and banged on his drum as he chanted for more.

“Let the others get some too, dear,” Aunt Clara said.

“Mine!” Jack said back at her, stomping his foot.

“Mister Erskine didn’t say it was for you. You’ll just have to wait your turn.”

Steve was the last to get a piece of walnut, and his godfather smiled at him.

“I would like you to have this, Steven.”

“Really?” Steve asked, ignoring Jack’s wail of betrayal.

“Yes.”

Abraham handed him the nutcracker and Steve examined it more closely than before.

It was expertly crafted—the buttons were slightly raised bumps on the carved wood and the blue coat’s seams were tiny lines the thickness of a hair. He could even see where signs of wear had been painted on the shoulders. He was surprised to find that it had blue eyes: a pale, icy shade to contrast the darkness of the coat.

“It’s a lovely gift,” Steve heard his father say over his shoulder.

Steve turned around to show his parents the nutcracker and break open some walnuts for them. He walked around the room and showed to the other parents and children, while the last of the presents were given out and opened. The girls got dolls and playhouses while the boys got toy soldiers and horses, trumpets, and drums.

He didn’t see Jack sneak up behind him, but Steve felt as he tried to wrench the nutcracker from his hands. Steve held on instinctively and heard himself cry out as the wood cracked apart.

Jack dropped nutcracker’s arm on the floor and started wailing.

Steve stared down at the nutcracker in his hands, hardly aware of his Aunt and Uncle telling Jack to apologize or the insincere apology that Jack sobbed out.

He looked around for his godfather and wanted to start crying himself. Abraham came over, picked up the arm, and crouched in front of him.

“It is alright, Steven. I will fix him.”

He slipped the joint of the arm into the socket. It was still loose, so he pulled a normal-sized handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around the nutcracker’s shoulder.

Steve held the nutcracker carefully and went to sit by the tree, still fighting back tears.

He stayed there, even as Jack tried to goad the other boys into joining into his game of sneaking up on Steve and banging on his drums.

Finally, the big grandfather clock in the corner struck the hour, the carved eagle at the top flapping its wings with each ring from the bell.

The parents started gathering their children to usher them to bed or to don their heavy coats to protect them from the cold and darkness of the outside.

Steve helped his godfather bring his belongings upstairs before saying goodnight to his parents.

As he walked up the stairs to his room, he looked down at where the nutcracker had been placed, high on a shelf overlooking the room. The white of the handkerchief almost shone in the light cast by the little baubles on the tree.


	5. Chapter 5

Steve woke up to a dark room, but could just see snow falling past his window. He stretched and got up, wanting to get his nutcracker from where it stood on his shelf so he could have it in his room instead.

He slipped on his house shoes and made his way from his room to the staircase, which was lit by the lights on the tree.

Padding his way across the room, Steve got on tiptoe to reach for his nutcracker, but stopped when he heard a noise behind him.

It was a mouse.

Steve wasn’t usually afraid of mice—he usually liked to catch them and free them far away from his home—but this one was… huge.

It stood taller than Steve himself, balanced on its hind legs as it was. It bared its yellow teeth at him, whiskers twitching, and Steve backed away from it as much as he could until he collided with the shelf. It rocked behind him for a second, and Steve felt something fall from it. It hit his shoulder and toppled to the floor.

He risked a glance downwards and saw that it was the nutcracker. He saw the mouse lunge out of the corner of his eye and dodged it as best he could.

Steve had planned to run for the stairs—he could tell his parents to run if he did, but the stairs looked like they were a mile away, and anyway the tree was between him and the stairs and—

—The tree.

It hadn’t been that big before, had it? Steve could still feel the phantoms of his father’s hands as he lifted him up to place the star at the top—which was now at least three stories above the ground.

He could see it getting higher and higher, and he looked around. The mouse was still chasing him, but the room was getting bigger and bigger—or was he getting smaller and smaller?—the shelf where the nutcracker had been placed looked like a hotel. The tree now looked like a mountain.

Steve tripped on the now-foot-high carpet and rolled over just in time for the mouse to reach him. It towered over him, its claws glinting in the light from the tree like knives.

He closed his eyes and waited for the mouse to strike, but it didn’t come.

“Hey!”

Opening his eyes again at the strange voice, Steve saw a hand grab the mouse and throw it backwards.

“Pick on someone your own size,” the voice said, and his mind made the connection as Steve glanced back and saw nothing where the nutcracker had fallen to the floor and then saw the blue coat the stranger wore.

 “How…?” he heard himself whisper as the nutcracker kicked at the mouse and it scampered away.

The nutcracker spun around and held out his hand for Steve.

Steve wanted to see his face, but all he could see was the nutcracker’s silhouette against the lights of the tree. He took the offered hand and was pulled to his feet.

“C’mon. Before the rest come.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that, but he followed the nutcracker as he was led towards the presents that were still under the tree.

He saw movement, and realized there were mice swarmed over the gifts, nibbling on the ribbons and scratching the paper.

“Don’t worry,” the nutcracker said. “We’ll be safe.”

There was one box that was far from the tree: the one the nutcracker had been in. The nutcracker pulled away the string holding it closed and pushed Steve inside before stepping in himself and closing the side of the box back up.

It had seemed a lot more spacious when they were running towards it, but Steve found himself held to the nutcracker’s chest in the darkness.

Steve’s ears rung in the silence of the box. Their breathing seemed loud, but Steve wasn’t able to concentrate well enough to stay quiet as his mind raced with questions.

There was a scratching outside the box, and the nutcracker’s arm pressed Steve closer. Even with fear like a cold presence at his back, Steve couldn’t help noticing that the nutcracker smelled like a forest.

The scratching grew louder and louder and became punctuated with squeaks. The mice were trying to get in, and once they did it would all be over. There were so _many_ out there, and Steve couldn’t imagine anyone handling that many on their own.

The nutcracker curled around him and Steve squeezed his eyes shut when a claw tore through the last layer of the box.

They both held their breath, waiting for the mice to break into their little sanctuary, but instead there was a bang that almost knocked the wind out of Steve. The claw disappeared, a pinhole of light revealing where it had been.

Several bangs followed the first, although none were as loud.

Eventually, there was silence.

“You in there, Sarge?” a voice yelled.

The nutcracker sighed into Steve’s hair and let him go. “We’re safe,” he whispered, and turned to open the door.

Steve didn’t know what he expected, but a circle of toy soldiers around the box wasn’t it.

There were only five of them—two Union soldiers, a British Redcoat, a French Revolutionary, and a Samurai—but their presence made Steve feel significantly calmer.

“What happened to you?” one of the Union soldiers asked, running his fingers over his bushy mustache.

“We were attacked,” the nutcracker said, and Steve turned to see him in the light for the first time. He looked just the same as before, but his eyes, instead of being painted on, were deep holes through which Steve could just see that there were _human_ eyes under the wood.

Those blue eyes glanced back at Steve before returning their gaze to the other soldiers.

“Where can we regroup?” he said, “We need to gather everyone who’s able to assist us.”

“There’s already a planning committee at the dollhouse,” the Redcoat answered.

“Then we’ll go there.” The nutcracker turned and the soldiers followed him towards the dollhouse in the bottom of the shelf. Steve felt a little lost as they all walked away, but the nutcracker halted after only a few steps. “Steve, are you coming?”

It was the first time that the nutcracker had said his name—before then Steve wasn’t even sure if the nutcracker _knew_ his name—but he felt his heart begin to race as he trotted forward to join the group.

He caught up with the nutcracker and strode alongside him.

“What should I call you?” Steve asked.

The nutcracker looked into the distance, where the dollhouse was just visible across the dark expanse of the floor. “My name’s James, but everyone calls me Bucky.”

Steve wanted to laugh and ask how the nutcracker had come to have not only _a_ nickname, but _that_ nickname, but their conversation was cut short when something huge landed on the ground before them. Bucky threw Steve back to be caught by one of the other soldiers.

It was a gigantic black rat that towered over all of them. Its eyes were a bloody red and it raised a large sabre level with the nutcracker’s neck.

“You have escaped me once,” it growled in a German accent that was as wicked as his godfather’s accent was kind. “You will not escape me again.”

The soldiers readied themselves to attack, but Bucky drew his sword and shouted for them to retreat.

“Sarge, we can’t just—”

“I didn’t ask, Dugan.”

Steve was grabbed by the arm and dragged as the soldiers ran.

“We have to help him!” Steve yelled at the second Union soldier as he tried to pry his arm out of the man’s grasp.

“Sarge said to retreat, we’re retreating.”

“He’ll get hurt!”

As if to prove Steve right, a half dozen mice jumped down from the presents where the nutcracker was facing off with the rat.

“Let me go!” he shouted, looking back again to see the mice pounce on the nutcracker. He screamed when Bucky collapsed under their weight and didn’t stop staring until the mice no longer shook with his thrashing and Bucky was still beneath them.


	6. Chapter 6

The soldiers were grim-faced as they reached the house. A blonde doll in a white dress opened the door for them.

The house was packed with toys, Steve recognized Jack’s stuffed rabbit among the dolls and the rest of the toy soldiers.

There was a long table set up in one room. The soldier at the head of it looked stately with his tasseled shoulders and epaulets.

“Who’s this?” he asked gruffly.

“A child, sir,” the Samurai replied.

The man raised an eyebrow. “You trade your sergeant in for something newer and younger?”

“Sarge saved him from an attack. After we found him and were on our way back, we were attacked again.”

“We must find him,” Steve heard a woman say in a clipped British accent. “If they have him—”

“I know that,” the man said. “But we have to have a plan here.”

Steve didn’t know what to do or say, and no one stopped him when he left the room.

The dollhouse looked almost real to him as he walked the halls, and eventually he found himself in the kitchen. The blonde doll who had let them in was there, humming over a boiling pot.

The room had a second door that led to the dining room through which Steve could still hear the planning going on. It sounded more like a fight than a discussion, and he jumped and hid on the other side of the door to the hallway when a doll burst in.

She slammed the door shut behind her and growled.

“You alright, hon?” the doll who had been at the stove asked.

“They’re planning a major attack,” the other woman replied. “It won’t go well and they know it, but they refuse to think and try to find another option.”

“Is there another option?”

“There may be, but none of _them_ would be willing to risk it. If I didn’t—” Something slammed down. “If I didn’t look like _this_ , they’d listen to me.”

“Oh, darling.”

He heard one of them walking, and then a few deep breaths before…

Steve blushed. He knew what kissing sounded like.

As he stepped away, a floorboard creaked beneath him. He froze as he heard more footsteps in the kitchen.

The second doll walked into the hallway, her arms crossed over her chest.

“I’m sorry!” he said. “I didn’t mean to listen to you, but I didn’t know where to go and—”

Her expression softened. “Come with me.”

The other doll had her lips pursed when Steve entered the kitchen.

“Don’t worry, Angie,” the doll who had caught him said. “I don’t believe any malice was intended.”

The blonde, Angie, shrugged. “If you say so, Peg.”

“Why won’t they listen to you?” Steve asked the brunette, and immediately regretted it.

“I thought you weren’t eavesdropping,” Angie muttered, and was shoved playfully.

“Because I’m not a soldier,” the brunette said. “They think that, because I’m wearing a dress instead of trousers, I should be pretending to dance instead of trying to protect myself.”

“You can’t change their minds?”

“I can’t prove myself if they refuse to let me try and that could only happen if—” She gave Steve a queer look. “You’re a human child, aren’t you?”

Steve nodded, and she smiled brightly.

“How would you like to help me rescue your friend?”

“It would be my honor.”


	7. Chapter 7

There was a staircase in the hallway to the kitchen that Steve had ignored while exploring the dollhouse.

The brown-haired doll, who had introduced herself as Peggy, led him up them and into the last room on the left.

“Wait here,” she said, and entered alone.

Steve didn’t allow himself to listen in as she spoke to whoever was in the room, and tried to be patient.

Peggy wasn’t gone long, and he turned from where he was examining a painting on the wall when the door opened, but it wasn’t Peggy standing there.

“Godfather Abraham?”

“Hello, Steven,” his godfather says. “Will you come in please?”

Steve’s head spun as he was made to sit down and listen to the plan Peggy had made with Abraham.

“You are the only one here who can do this, Steve,” she said. “It requires living flesh.”

“Will it hurt?” he asked and immediately felt like a coward.

“I do not believe so,” his godfather replied.

Steve knew there was no turning back when Angie returned with a cup and saucer and the curtains were pulled closed.

Abraham took the cup from Angie, examined it for a moment, and gave it to Steve.

“Drink this all at once,” he said.

Steve took a deep breath and looked at the liquid. It was a bright blue that reminded him of the lights on the tree. Closing his eyes, he began to drink it.

He felt the warmth of it filling him from his toes to the crown of his head. As he kept drinking, he felt himself growing hotter and hotter, until he felt like a star. Light filled the space behind his eyelids until he felt like a star burning in the room.

Swallowing the last sip, he gasped a breath and opened his eyes.

The others were staring at him hopefully, and Steve was about to tell them he was fine when everything went dark and he collapsed on the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

“I think he’s waking up,” Steve heard.

Opening his eyes felt like trying to lift an elephant.

The first thing he saw was his godfather, who was seated on the bed next to him, a concerned wrinkle in his brow.

“Are you well, Steven?”

“I… I think so,” he replied. Steve sat up and the world spun around him. “Did it work?”

“Try standing up and we’ll see.”

Steve swung his legs off the bed and stood with a groan… and then sat right back down when he realized that everyone was suddenly shorter than he was.

“What’s going on?”

“It worked.”

Steve looked down at his hands and realized they weren’t _his_ hands anymore. They were much larger than he remembered.

There was a mirror in the room, and Steve forced himself to stand again and walked over to it.

The person he saw wasn’t himself—but a grown man, muscular and tall.

He wanted to stare or cry or laugh, but he remembered _why_ he’d agreed to do this.

“Do we have a plan?” he asked, and Peggy smiled.

“Come with me.”

They snuck out the back of the house, and Steve could hear the soldiers still discussing their plan through the thin walls.

“You won’t have a lot of time,” Peggy said as she opened the kitchen door.

The door led to a back porch—at least, Steve _thought_ it was a porch, as it was piled high with what looked like trash.

There was a frame of some sort in an area that was almost clear; a man was lying underneath it, whistling.

Peggy nudged the man with her foot and he peeked out from the side of the frame.

“Why, Lady Carter!” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?”

“We need your help,” Peggy replied. “The others are planning an attack on the mice, but we need to get there first.”

“And who’s ‘we’?” the man’s eyes landed on Steve.

“This is Steve. He’s the human.”

The man raised an eyebrow, but slid himself out from under the frame and wiped some of the grease off his hands before holding one out for Steve to shake. “I’m Howard Stark.”

“Steve Rogers.”

“Yeah, I can get you there fast. Get everything you need and meet me back here.” Howard said, rubbing his chin and paying no mind to the black streak his hands left there. Steve wondered how much of the black in his salt-and-pepper hair was also from grease.

They reentered the kitchen, where Peggy asked Angie for a pair of scissors. Steve was wondering what she could possibly use them for against the mice when she started cutting her dress away.

Steve blushed and tried to leave, but she grabbed his sleeve before he could escape.

“Help me with this and we’ll find you something else to wear.”

He’d forgotten he was still in his pajamas, but it didn’t feel quite right to see as the fabric drooped to reveal her underclothes. Steve did his best to keep his eyes on his work as he tore the fine fabric away. There was a second, much lighter dress underneath it and he only cut partway through it before Peggy stopped him.

He was, once again, led upstairs to another bedroom. There was a chest of drawers in this one, and she dug through it until she found a few large Union uniforms.

“See if any of these fit you,” she said, and pushed him behind the dressing screen.

None of the jackets fit him, but Steve found a pair of trousers that was mostly comfortable. When he told Peggy so, she tossed a Redcoat jacket over the screen. He tried it on and stepped out of the screen.

Peggy had changed into a Redcoat uniform while he was behind the screen.

He was surprised to realize that it suited her better than the red gown she was in before.

They snuck back down the stairs where Angie and Howard were waiting in the kitchen. Angie pressed a kiss to Peggy’s cheek.

“You stay safe,” she said. “I’ll kill you if you get yourself murdered out there.”

Peggy hugged her for a moment. “I promise I’ll be okay.”

They kissed again, and Angie glared at Steve, who found he’d been staring without meaning to. “I hope you don’t expect me to kiss _you_.”

“No, ma’am. Sorry.”

Angie shook her head and stepped back from Peggy with a fond smile.

“Ready?” Howard asked from where he was leaning against to the wall of the kitchen.

At Steve and Peggy’s nodding, he gestured for them to follow him. They walked through the porch, stepping over scrap metal and bags of trash until they reached the outside—or the living room of Steve’s house, really.

The metal frame they’d found him under had been moved outside, and wheels had been added to it. Upon closer inspection, it looked like a carriage, but there were no horses to lead it.

“ _This_ is how you plan on getting us there?” Steve asked.

“It’s a lot quieter than horses,” Howard retorted.

Steve tried to figure out how the thing worked, but all he could see was what looked like a stove under the seats.

“Hey, kid,” Howard said, interrupting Steve’s examination of his contraption. “You got a weapon on you?”

Steve hadn’t even thought of that. How was he supposed to fight off the mice without something to fight _with_?

“I didn’t think so,” Howard commented at Steve’s worried expression. “Take this.” He reached into the carriage and pulled out a round metal shield. “It won’t do much, but it’s better than nothing.”

Sliding the shield onto his arm, Steve ran his hands over the metal. “Thank you.”

“Thank me when you get out of this alive,” Howard replied. “You sure you want to do this?”

“He saved _me_. I have to pay him back.”

For a moment, Howard looked like he wanted to refuse him, but he shook his head. “That’s your choice. Let’s go.”

Steve didn’t think the carriage would do anything, but when Howard opened a compartment and turned something in it, the compartment emitted a high-pitched whirr and lit up with blue light.

“Hop in,” Howard said.

There was a single bench in the carriage, and Peggy slid into the middle while Steve climbed in. Howard sat to her left, behind a sick with a small wheel at its end. The stick was covered with smaller branches, each one capped with a gold or silver bulb.

“Philipps said the mice have set up their camps in the tree,” Peggy said over the sound of the carriage.

Howard nodded, pulled a few of the small branches, and the carriage lurched forward. “I’d suggest you hold on.”

Steve saw his leg shift and the carriage shot off like a bullet. Steve clung to the bench as they arced around the house and directly toward the tree.

“What the hell is this thing?” Peggy asked, her hair whipping around her, occasionally smacking Steve in the face.

“Isn’t it great?” Howard asked.

“That’s not quite the word I’d use,” Steve replied, feeling giddy as he saw the room fly by.

Howard scoffed. “You’re no fun, kid.”

The tree loomed over them like a great specter, and Steve did what he could to ignore the queer feeling in his chest as he wondered where Bucky was being kept.

There was movement on a higher branch, and Steve realized he could see mice on it, moving something until it pointed at them. He realized just in time that it was a catapult. Once mouse gestured, and Steve moved without thinking, throwing the shield over Howard and Peggy just in time for something to collide with it.

“What was that!?” Howard asked.

“They’re attacking!” Peggy replied.

Steve covered them again as a second projectile was shot at them.

“How much longer?” he asked, raising the shield to watch the mice.

“We’re close,” Howard said as he swerved to avoid something crashing to the floor in their path. “How long can you hold out?”

“I’m alright for now, just try to hurry.”

Peggy braced Steve as he turned on the bench so he could protect them more easily. He heard a thump and looked over to see that a pine nut had landed where he’d been sitting.

“They’re firing pine nuts!”

“When you have something useful to tell me, say it. But at the moment, I don’t care _what_ they’re firing as much as I care that we _don’t die_!” Howard shouted at him.

Peggy chuckled quietly as Steve blocked another shot from the mice.

As they neared the tree, the mice started having increased difficulty with aiming.

When they passed under the lowest branches, Steve felt it was safe to relax a little.

“How are we doing this?” he asked.

“We’ll enter from the bottom, near the trunk, and work our way upwards. We’re bound to find him that way.”

Steve nodded and slipped his shield back onto his arm. Howard stopped between two presents, where they were mostly out of sight. “You want me to tell Phillips you’re doing this?” he asked.

“You’d better. Although I can’t imagine he’ll be pleased.”

“You know he’ll kill you if you mess this up, Peg.”

She smiled. “I have no plans of doing so.”

Howard drove off, the whirring of his vehicle becoming quieter and quieter.


	9. Chapter 9

Steve feared they’d have to climb the tree, but as they walked the perimeter of the tree’s base, they found a staircase had been carved into it. Steve followed the line of it and saw that it spiraled up the trunk.

Steve began to ascend the stairs first, letting Peggy keep an eye behind them while he kept his shield raised in preparation for an attack.

They glanced at each of the branches. Most of them didn’t have anything odd, but they found a few where the branches of the tree had been tied to form little rooms. Some of the branch rooms had weapons that looked like the ones the toy soldiers had carried. They were almost a third of the way up the tree when they saw a room that had a table with a large, white piece of fabric in it. Steve shuddered when he realized it was the handkerchief his godfather had placed on the nutcracker.

“Something’s wrong,” Steve heard Peggy say behind him not long afterwards.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, pausing.

“They must know we’re here. There was nowhere else we could’ve gone after they shot at us, and they know we weren’t hit. So where are they?”

Steve chewed his lip and continued to walk up the stairs, but he stopped again when he heard a noise above them. Peggy didn’t question him, but the silence was deafening as they listened for another sound.

There was a quiet squeaking nearby, and Steve walked up a few more steps and onto the branch closest to him. There was a room on it, and it was mostly thrown into shadow by the lights his grandfather had put on the tree, but he saw movement in one corner.

“…Never listen to me?” it muttered to itself.

Steve grabbed the mouse in the corner and shoved it into the light, ignoring its shout of fear.

It was rather small, but fat, and it wore thick glasses over its beady eyes. “Please, do not hurt me!”

“Where’s the nutcracker?”

The mouse sneered at him. “You will not find him, child. He is no longer yours.”

Steve wanted to wipe the smug grin off the mouse’s face, but Peggy grabbed his arm before he could.

“Don’t, Steve.”

“He can tell us where they’re keeping—”

“Not if you beat him to death!”

Steve tried to stare her down, but she looked right back at him, her brown eyes determined.

“What would you do, then?”

Her smile this time wasn’t anything like the other smiles he’d seen on her. “I’ll get him to talk.”

“I thought you _didn’t_ want me to beat him to death.”

“Oh, he won’t die. He’ll just _wish_ he could.”

Steve opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a deep rumbling. He thought it was the mice restarting their attack, but there was an accompanying whirr that grew louder even faster than the rumbling.

The needles of the branch they were standing on started to rustle and Steve pulled Peggy out of the way just in time as Howard’s contraption tore through them and slammed into the tree trunk.

Howard hopped off the bench and sauntered over.

“You didn’t say that thing could fly!” Steve said.

Howard glanced at the wreckage. “Well it can’t _now_. Besides, I thought you might want warning that the cavalry’s on its way.”

Steve threw the mouse down and watched it cower at his feet. “I’m gonna try and find him. If I can’t, I’ll come back and find you, okay?”

Peggy and Howard nodded, and Steve climbed over one of the wings from the crash to make his way up the tree.


	10. Chapter 10

Steve came across his first guards when he was halfway up the tree. They hissed at him and waved their swords, but he blocked their attacks with his shield and shoved them off the staircase.

As they clung to the branches and squeaked in terror, Steve continued his ascent.

Peggy was right: there weren’t enough guards. Steve felt like he was being followed as he climbed to the crown of the tree, but every time he looked, he was alone on the staircase.

His hand landed on something wet, and he looked at the tree trunk to find blood splattered across it.

Steve didn’t let himself think about what it meant and kept moving.

The staircase started to curve inwards more and Steve realized he was almost at the top. Some of the thinner branches were bent and tied together to form larger rooms, filled with tables and hordes of food.

It was in one of the food stores that he found the rat from before. It was shoving the food down its throat, paying no mind to the blood on its paws.

“Where is he?” Steve asked, and the rat turned to him.

Its red eyes seemed to glow in the blue light, and it grinned wildly. “You are not a very smart child, are you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that you have not noticed the escort I sent to lead you here.”

Steve’s racing mind distracting him so he didn’t notice anyone coming up behind him until a hand wrapped around his arm. He tried to spin out of the grasp of that hand, but it held him tightly.

“It is too late, child. He will not release you unless I command it,” the rat said, bloody bits of food spilling from its mouth.

Steve tried to turn his head and see his captor, but another hand grabbed his hair so all he could see was the rat.

The rat cackled, watching him struggle against those unyielding hands, and walked to the stairs. “I would ask you to follow me,” it said, “but you do not have a choice in the matter.”

The hands pushed him, and Steve fought them for a moment. They shoved harder hand he let himself fall onto the stairs. The corners of the steps dug into him, but he rolled out from underneath whoever had been holding him and kicked their legs out from under them.

Steve threw a punch, only for his hand to be caught by a silver hand, and he finally saw the face of his attacker.

He almost reeled back when he realized it was the nutcracker— _Bucky_ —although the human eyes Steve had seen before were gone, replaced by the painted-on eyes of the toy he’d been given.

“Do you like your toy, child?” the rat asked from above them. “He obeys every order now. We even fixed his arm!”

“What did they do to you?” Steve whispered, but received no response.

“Bring him,” the rat said, and Steve was lifted off the stairs and shoved after the rat. “We will dispose of him, and then I will deal with the others.”

Bucky forced him to walk, and tightened his grip painfully when Steve tried to struggle.

As they reached the top of the tree, the rat cackled again and gestured towards the ends of the branches. Steve tried to dig his heels into the bark of the tree, but it didn’t hinder the nutcracker at all.

Steve was marched right to the end of the branches, where he could see the toy soldiers swarming the tree. There were a few mice fighting them, but they seemed mostly unstoppable.

Steve was suddenly struck by a memory of his father reading him some story about pirates, about how anyone they didn’t like was made to walk the plank and swim in the open ocean until they grew tired and lost the ability to swim any longer or were eaten by sharks.

He closed his eyes and waited for the push that would send him falling to his death, but the nutcracker didn’t push him and, after a moment, released him.

“What are you doing?” the rat demanded. “Kill him!”

Steve heard a sword being drawn and looked over his shoulder to see the nutcracker strike out at the rat. The rat tried to dodge, but was slow from gorging itself on its followers.

The nutcracker’s blade sliced its belly open, and it shone with blood.

Hissing in pain, the rat clutched its wound and tried to claw at nutcracker, who dodged the attack and thrusted his sword into the rat’s chest.

The rat hissed again, the sound wheezing as its lung filled with fluid. It grasped the nutcracker’s jacket before throwing him backwards. The nutcracker tripped backwards and fell off the side of another branch.

Steve rushed forward and caught Bucky’s wrist before he could fall. Bucky’s free hand swung up and clung to him.

There was a shuffling of feet behind him, and Steve looked up to see the rat pull the sword from its wound. Blood gushed from its chest, but it raised the sword as if it didn’t realize it was near death.

The rat began to lower the sword towards Steve, and he didn’t have time to think to raise his shield, but he didn’t have to. Before the sword was anywhere near him, another sword collided with the rat’s neck, beheading it.

A grim-faced Peggy was revealed as the rat’s body collapsed onto the tree branch, which shook with the weight of the rat’s body, and Steve felt himself being pulled down by the nutcracker.

Peggy cried out and tried to catch him, but it was too late. Steve felt the wind rushing past as he fell, still holding the nutcracker’s hand.


	11. Chapter 11

Waking up was a surprise. Steve had been _certain_ that the fall would kill him, but he felt bizarrely uninjured.

He had, apparently, landed on something soft, and he groaned and opened his eyes to look around.

Painted, icy blue eyes greeted him.

Steve sat up to make sure Bucky was also safe, and felt like he’d been punched when he realized that only the nutcracker’s _head_ was on the ground next to him.

He tried to breathe, but the air caught in his lungs. It was like every asthma attack he’d ever had all returned to him at once, choking him as he stared down at those dead eyes.

A hand touched his shoulder, but Steve couldn’t look at them, could only look at the face of someone he’d failed to save.

They’d had so little time together, Steve had hardly known him at all, and now he was gone forever.

Steve wanted to weep, but he couldn’t breathe well enough to do so. All he could do was gasp in little bits of air and hate himself.

The hand on his shoulder turned him around, and he was staring into the face of a stranger.

“Are you alright?” the man asked him.

“I—I—”

The man knelt beside him. “Take deep breaths. You’re safe now, Steve.”

Steve dragged in a breath before he realized what the man had said. “How did you know—” He looked at the man again, and realized his eyes were an icy blue, and that his left arm was metal, and his voice…

“You’re… Are you…?”

The man smiled. “It’s me. It’s Bucky.”

The world seemed to freeze around them. Steve looked down at the head beside him.

“How…?”

“You freed me,” Bucky replied, his eyes bright. “You broke the curse the rat king cast on me. And I’m free.”

Steve looked into those eyes, at once so familiar and so strange to him, and a laughed bubbled up from his throat.

He remembered what he’d thought before opening his eyes and looked around. They were, somehow, in a small clearing in a forest. Snow drifted from the sky and danced through the air, but Steve wasn’t cold at all.

Some snowflakes were caught in Bucky’s brown hair and eyelashes and Steve scooped up a handful of it. The snow felt real enough, but it was only cool in his hand instead of freezing.

Steve grinned and smashed the snow into Bucky’s face. Bucky squawked and tried to grab him, but Steve jumped away from him and ran as Bucky molded some snow into a ball. Steve tried to dodge the snowball, but Bucky threw it and it was a direct hit onto the center of his face.

They giggled and played in the snow, throwing snowballs or even loose snow at each other. Bucky had very good aim, but Steve was good at dodging and sneaking up behind Bucky to press his snow-cold hands to Bucky’s neck or ears.

Steve ran to hide behind a tree, waiting for Bucky to get close enough for him to attack again, but Bucky was wising up to his tricks and attempting to hide as well… and suddenly they were nose-to-nose.

Their breath mixed, and Steve wanted to kiss him. He was beautiful, his nose and cheeks red from laughing and the cool air, his eyes icy blue, but warm all the same.

Bucky leaned in at the same moment as Steve.

“Pardon me,” a voice said, and they turned in unison towards the speaker.

A man stood a few yards from them. His blue skin was punctuated by long, black lines—or, at least, his chest was. From his hips hung a blue skirt with shining silver accents. His black hair flowed past his shoulders; small sections of it were braided thinly, with brightly colored beads woven in. The man was ankle deep in snow, but he didn’t seem to notice it, in spite of his bare feet.

He raised a dark eyebrow at their proximity, and Steve and Bucky stepped apart.

“I have been asked to escort you to the palace,” the man said, and turned before they could respond.

Bucky raced back into the clearing where Steve had woken up and returned with the nutcracker head.

“Who is that?” Steve asked him, nodding towards the blue man, who had paused to catch snowflakes in his hands.

“A snow spirit,” Bucky replied.          

The spirit waited for them to catch up. As they neared, Steve saw that his eyes were a deep red and, when the spirit started walking again, he could hear a quiet jingling with each of his steps.

Steve looked at the trees around them, at the silently falling snow, and the spirit before him. “Where are we?”

Bucky grinned. “We’re in the Land of Sweets. My home.”

With everything that happened, Steve couldn’t find that particularly surprising.

They crunched through the snow, the forest peaceful around them.

Occasionally, Steve thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye, but every time he looked, there was nothing there. He looked at the grey sky and watched a snowflake as it drifted downwards. It spun and fluttered in the air, and as it neared him, Steve could’ve sworn he saw it morph into a tiny copy of the snow spirit and dance down to the ground.

The forest began to thin, the trees becoming smaller and thinner, the snow falling more thickly. The path the snow spirit led them on became steeper as well.

As they reached the crest of the hill and the edge of the forest, they looked out on a large valley. It was blanketed in a dark fog.

Bucky dropped the nutcracker’s head in the snow.

“What—” he gasped. “What happened?”

The snow spirit stared out onto the valley. “The curst did not only affect you, my prince.” He caught a few more snowflakes in his hands. “However, the fog has begun to lift.” The snow spirit gestured at the woods, and copies of him stepped out from the trees.

Steve realized the copies were what he’d been seeing moving through the woods.

The copies gathered in a ring around them.

Bucky picked the nutcracker’s head up and balanced it on his hip before offering his arm to Steve, who took it. “Thank you, spirit, for leading us to the palace,” he said, and the copies of the spirit spun around them.

The world spun with them, and blurred into stripes of white and blue and silver before going dark.


	12. Chapter 12

When it finally stopped spinning around them, the world was dark, although it had been daytime in the forest.

They stood outside the ruins of a great castle. Cracks ran through every wall Steve could see. The remains of a pathway meandered toward the castle doors. One of the doors hung on its hinges, the other rotted on the ground.

Bucky’s skin was pale in the darkness.

“What happened?” Steve asked, and his voice was loud in the deathly silence.

“It must be the curse,” Bucky replied, although his voice was far off, as if he didn’t know that Steve was even there.

Bucky walked over what cobblestones remained of the pathway, his eyes wide with fear.

Steve followed a half-step behind, and watched him climb up the broken steps to the doorway. 

“My… my family,” Bucky said, his voice echoing against the walls of the castle. “They were here, Steve. They were… Where are they? What happened to them?” His eyes were bright with tears.

Deep down, Steve knew he couldn’t help, but he reached out for Bucky and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll find them,” he said, and hoped his voice was stronger than he felt.

Bucky exhaled shakily and pressed his hand to the wall of the castle. “I’d hoped you could see it. It was… beautiful.”

Steve reached out for the stones and pressed his fingertips to the cold, smooth rock.

The wall rippled at his touch, as if it were a pond and Steve had tossed in a pebble. With every undulation, the castle and the world around it lit up.

They froze, watching as the movement slowly came to an end, but the light remained.

“Do that again,” Bucky said, and Steve slammed his hands into the rock.

A noise rung out like a massive bell, and the ripples began again, this time more like a tidal wave than a stone into a pond. The light spread like sunlight at dawn, silvery at the edges of the wave and leaving the castle restored everywhere it touched.

The walls were white, and vines with bright red flowers crept up the sides. The path they’d come down was paved with colored flagstones arranged into intricate patterns.

Bucky laughed, running his hands over the doors, which hung in their places once again, painted a bright blue and with designs carved into them. Massive doorknockers hung on each.

Bucky pulled on one and released it so it could bang down.

Steve took his arm again as the doors opened. He’d expected a footman or butler, but there was no one there.

“Welcome home, sir,” a voice said, making Steve jump. “You have been greatly missed.”

Bucky smiled.

“Their Royal Highnesses are in the throne room awaiting you.”

“Thank you,” Bucky said to the voice, and led Steve through the long halls of the castle.

Steve couldn’t help his mouth falling open at the splendor of Bucky’s home. The walls, when not decorated with the same vines and array of flowers as the exterior, had massive paintings or tapestries hung from them. Bucky navigated the winding corridors expertly, but Steve was lost after the third turn.

They turned down a long hallway. The doors at the end were carved and painted even more grandly than the exterior ones, and opened as soon as they reached the threshold.

A beautiful room was revealed, the white walls seemed even brighter for the red and silver accents on them. It looked out on a beautifully tended garden, with pillars lining the huge windows.

There was a dais between the door where Steve and Bucky stood and the windows. The man and woman sitting in the thrones stood as Bucky entered. He bowed deeply to them—Steve did his best to bow properly as well—before handing the nutcracker’s head to Steve and running up and embracing them.

“Mother, father!” he said, and they held tight to him for a long moment.

The woman—the _queen_ , Steve realized, remembering that the snow spirit had said Bucky was a prince—cradled Bucky’s face in her hands. “My son. You’re home at last.”

Bucky’s chin trembled and he hugged her again.

Steve heard running behind him, and three little figures scampered past. They climbed up onto the dais, giggling, and two of the children wrapped themselves around Bucky’s legs while the tallest tucked herself against his side.

“Bucky!” one of them said, “Where were you?”

“We missed you,” the second said over the first. “What happened to your arm?”

“Becca cut her hair!” the first one commented.

The two little ones chattered over each other as Bucky ran a hair through the tallest child’s hair. She grinned and spoke quietly to him.

One of the children looked over at Steve.

“Who’s that?” he said.

“Yes, James,” the King asked. “Who is this young man you’ve brought along with you?”

Bucky untangled his legs from the grip of the children and walked down the steps of the dais.

“Father, mother, this is Steve. He… He’s the one who broke the curse.” Bucky took Steve’s hand and led him forward. “Steve, these are my parents, George and Winifred.”

Steve started to bow again.

“There’s no need for that,” George— _King George_ —boomed. “You have saved us all. We owe you a great deal of gratitude.”

Blushing, Steve straightened back up.

“And these are my siblings,” Bucky continued, as if Steve hadn’t just been personally thanked by a king, “Rebecca,” the tall girl smiled, “and the twins, Henry and Elizabeth.” The children hopped off the dais to run up to Steve.

“What’s that?” Henry asked, pointing at the nutcracker’s head.

“The end of the curse, Harry,” Winifred said, leaving the dais in a more dignified way than her children. “That is why the night ended and the sun shines once more.”

Elizabeth hid behind Bucky and glared at the head as Henry poked at it like he was trying to ensure it wouldn’t hurt them again.

Steve looked around when he heard voices coming closer. A group of people entered from the gardens, chatting amiably.

“Is that—” the man in the cowboy hat said.

“It is!” replied the man in the red suit with thick gold braiding.

“So, the prince is back,” the woman in the fur hat commented.

Steve stepped away as Bucky was welcomed by the new group, feeling a bit like an outsider.

“How is it that have you returned?” the tallest man asked.

Bucky turned around and pulled Steve closer again. “The curse was broken.” He smiled at Steve.

“Such a feat requires great strength,” the man said.

Steve blushed. “It was nothing—” he stopped when he saw Bucky, who would’ve been killed if he hadn’t intervened.

“I’ll introduce you,” Bucky said, and took him down the line of people so he could meet them. Steve tried to remember the names and faces, but he felt each one falling out of his mind whenever he was introduced to another.

“Tonight,” King George said from the dais when the introductions were over, “we shall have a banquet in honor of my son’s return.”

The group of people cheered and started to disperse, some going to Bucky’s parents or siblings, and others leaving the room.

Bucky sidled up beside Steve. “Let me show you around.”

Steve nodded and took his arm again.

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked as they passed the doors that led to the gardens.

“Just a little overwhelmed.” He looked around the gardens, seeing more of the flowers and vines. “Your home is beautiful.”

Bucky looked around as well. “I’d never really thought of it as beautiful before. It was just my home, but being away from it for so long, and thinking I’d never see it again… I guess I can see its beauty now.”

“They said you were cursed.” Steve said, looking at the nutcracker’s head that he still carried. “How?”

Bucky’s eyes became a little far-off. “I met the Rat King in the forest. He had injured himself so I would take pity on him. I brought him to my parents to see if we could help him, but once he was inside the palace, he placed the curse on us. Luckily, the other monarchs were here at the time and were able to fight him enough that the land of sweets wasn’t destroyed entirely.”

“And you…?”

“And I was send to your world, where I was trapped until…” Bucky’s cheeks went a little pink. “Until someone loved me.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that. He couldn’t deny how he felt, even after such a short amount of time, but it was a little embarrassing that everyone else probably knew his feelings.

Bucky led him to a walkway lined with pillars, which connected where they’d come from to another building. The door opened as they neared it.

“This is the guest wing,” Bucky said.

A door swung open.

“This room is not currently in use, sir.” The voice they’d heard when they first arrived at the palace said, and Steve wondered where it was coming from.

“Thank you, Jarvis,” Bucky said to the empty air, and went into the room to look through a large wardrobe in one corner. “There should be something in here that’ll fit you…” he said, his voice muffled. “Aha!” He pulled out a suit, his face triumphant.

It was the same shade of blue as the suit Steve had worn to the Christmas party his parents had thrown.

He remembered it like it had happened years ago, but he was almost certain only a few hours had passed.

Bucky pulled out a white shirt and red waistcoat and laid them out on the bed. He turned around, pausing, and came close again to take the nutcracker’s head from Steve’s hands. Their fingers brushed together.

Steve could feel the heat of him from the proximity. The moment in the snow flashed in his mind, how he’d wanted to kiss Bucky, how he’d known that Bucky wanted to return his kiss.

“Uh.” Bucky looked like he wanted to kiss Steve again, and Steve’s heart raced. “I…” he bit his lip and grinned bashfully. “There’s a dressing room, if you want to try the suit on before dinner.”

“Yeah.”

Steve grabbed the clothes and retreated into the dressing room. His face in the mirror was almost the color of the waistcoat.

Shaking himself, Steve stripped down so he could try on the clothes. He glanced down at the fabric and felt a little lost.

“Bucky?” he called.

“Yeah?”

“Is there a valet who can help?”

There was silence for a moment before Bucky spoke. “Would you like me to help?”

Steve clenched his fists. “Yes, please.” He did everything he could to forget the fact that he was in his drawers in front of someone who knew Steve was in love with him.

Bucky dressed him quickly and efficiently, looking at Steve as little as possible.

They both seemed determined to ignore the way Steve shivered when Bucky’s fingers touched him and how they were close enough to taste each other’s breath.

Everything fit snugly, although Steve wondered if he could fit in with the grand people he’d met before.

“You look perfect,” Bucky commented, as if he could hear his thoughts. He was fastening some star-shaped cufflinks onto the sleeves of the shirt. He chuckled. “Dressed like this, you’ll outshine everyone else.”

Steve rolled his eyes and shoved Bucky away, but he caught a look of himself in the mirror and liked what he saw.


	13. Chapter 13

They returned to the gardens, where Bucky left to get dressed as well. “Feel free to explore. I’ll find you when I’m done.”

Steve found a little seating area with a fountain and let himself relax, watching the water. Every so often, jets of water would spray in a complicated design from the fountain before falling back down.

 “…And he crashed it!” Steve heard a man say behind him.

“I’m sure he didn’t do it on purpose, Tony,” a woman replied.

Three people came out through one of the hedge walls.

“Hello, Steve,” the woman said, smiling. Her dress was dark brown and hugged her body all the way to her knees, where it became a cascade of ruffles.

The black man, whose suit was a lighter shade of brown and accented with greys and blues, also smiled at him.

The other man was still complaining. Something about him was familiar to Steve, but he didn’t know why.

“I spent six months building it, and he flew it once and now it’s unusable.”

“Please excuse Tony,” the woman said. “He’s a little upset.”

“Upset doesn’t begin to cover it, Pepper,” Tony retorted. “He only brought it with him so he could tinker with it and look like a genius.”

“What happened?” Steve asked, more out of politeness than an interest in hearing Tony whine more.

“I made the mistake of loaning something to my father and he destroyed it taking it for a joyride.”

“He wasn’t taking it for a joyride, Tony,” the black man said, although he looked too fond for his words to be cutting. “He was trying to help in the battle against the rat king.”

Steve looked at Tony. “Are you Howard’s son?”

“Unfortunately,” Tony scowled. “Rhodey, why didn’t we elope to escape him?”

“We did elope,” the other man replied, matter-of-fact. “We went through six dimensions trying to find somewhere that would marry the three of us.”

“Actually, you went to five dimensions,” a third man said as he entered the clearing. Steve remembered his name was Sam. “And then you gave up and just asked to get married here.” He was wearing red and grey kaftan. The sleeves and shoulders were decorated with a wing pattern. He sat on the stone bench next to Steve. “How are you?” he asked.

Steve glanced at the fountain. “It’s amazing,” he said. “I never knew any of this existed before today.”

“Would you like to walk with me?” Sam asked.

Steve looked at Tony, who was groaning at something Rhodey had said to Pepper.

“Yes, please.”

Sam chuckled as they walked out of the little seating area. The hedges were carved into different shapes, some of people, others of animals. He paused at one shaped like a huge bird.

They passed a garden of rosebushes that were as tall as buildings, trees covered in blooming pink flowers, and a grove of weeping willows.

There was a break in the hedges that looked westward and gave them a perfect view of the sunset.

“This reminds me of my home,” Sam said. “Although the sunsets here aren’t as bright.”

“Where are you from?”

Sam pointed to the right. “Far to the north is a desert, a land of sand and dust… and life.”

Steve followed his gaze. There was a tiny, dark speck in the sky. It grew slowly, and he saw that it was a bird. It flew closer and closer, and dove down to land on Sam’s outstretched arm.

Sam ran his fingers over the bird’s feathers before glancing at its foot. There was a little tube tied to the bird’s leg. Sam pulled on the tube, and a little piece of paper slipped out of it.

“I’m sorry, I need to give this message to the queen,” Sam said. “Will you be alright by yourself?”

“Yes,” Steve replied. “Thank you for the walk.”

Sam gave him one last smile and walked away, letting the bird hop onto his shoulder.

Steve decided not to follow him—he didn’t want anyone to think he was trying to eavesdrop on whatever Sam needed to tell Bucky’s mother—so he went in the opposite direction, following the scent of herbs.

The smell was coming from another garden, although this one was much less grand than the others Steve had seen. It looked like it was tended by hand, and there was a small but elegant gazebo in the center.

A man sat at a table in the gazebo, writing in a large book. A steaming cup at his elbow.

He looked up and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Hello.”

Steve smiled. Bucky had called this man Dr. Banner, but he’d said Steve could call him Bruce. “Is this your garden?”

“It is. I use the plants grown here for medicines.” He tilted his head thoughtfully. “Do you know a man named Erskine?”

“He’s my godfather.”

“I believe he gave you a drink that helped you grow?” Steve nodded. “He developed it with me.”

“How do you know him?” Steve asked. 

Bruce waved Steve in, and he walked through a trellis covered with vines and over a stone pathway to the gazebo. Steve took a seat after Bruce pulled a long purple coat off of the second chair.

“Would you like some tea?” Bruce said, gesturing to a kettle on a stove next to the table.

“Yes, please.”

Bruce lifted the kettle by wrapping a thick piece of cloth around the handle and poured some tea into a spare cup. “Your godfather came here many years ago,” he said as he gave the cup to Steve. “He saved the life of a fairy, almost at the cost of himself, and she brought him here for us to heal him.”

Steve took a sip of his tea. The liquid was a dark pink, and wasn’t very sweet.

“He learned how to visit us on his own after that, and we became close friends. Soon after, the land was cursed and the prince captured, and we asked him to help us.

“One of the children who lives here is a seer, and saw who would break the curse the rat king placed on us. Erskine clearly found you.”

Steve blushed. “I didn’t know. It just happened.”

Bruce smiled, and Steve felt calmed. “You were very brave to have helped us. Few children would’ve done so.”

Wrapping his hands around his cup, Steve stared into the liquid. Flower petals floated in it like fish in a pond.

“I like your garden,” Steve said, unsure of what else to say.

“I only tend this area. A staff of gardeners cares for the rest.”

“I figured.” Steve drank more of the tea. “But I like this area.”

“I do too,” Bruce replied.


	14. Chapter 14

When Steve finished his tea, Bruce showed him through the gardens, explaining the medicinal uses of each plant they passed.

Bruce paused at the base of a tree and crossed his arms. “I don’t know what kind of flower this one is.”

Steve walked over to see what he meant, and found a woman sitting in the tree.

Her fur hat was nowhere to be seen, but she still wore a cloak, in spite of the warm weather in the gardens. The collar and cuffs were lined with fur, and her skirt was a shock of bright red where it hung down from the tree.

She glared down at them. “Am I not allowed to sit here?”

“You are,” Bruce replied, “but one of these days, you’re going to fall out of that tree and it’ll be your own fault.”

“I’m not exactly _known_ for falling out of trees.”

“And I’m not exactly known for losing control of my emotions,” Bruce retorted. “But that doesn’t mean it never happens.”

“You sound like Sam.”

“I hope you don’t mean that as an insult, because I know you can do better.”

“You sound like Tony, then.”

Bruce laughed. “Now _that’s_ the Natasha I know.”

Natasha hopped down from the tree, landing on the path of the garden. No longer covered by the hat, her hair was almost the same red as her skirt.

“Waiting for Bucky?” she asked Steve.

“Yeah.”

One of her eyebrows quirked. “Did he choose your clothes?”

Steve blushed.

“You look nice, but it’s very much his taste,” she said, smiling, and cocked her head thoughtfully. “Would you like to walk with me, Steve?”

“Of course,” he said.

“I need to get ready for tonight,” Bruce said. “I’ll see the two of you later.”

Natasha walked out of the garden through a gate instead of the trellis Steve had walked through, and led him into the hedges once again. “He really likes you, you know,” she said as Steve followed her.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah.” She took him down a turn into an area where the walkway was lined with tiny shrubs, each covered with tiny bunches of flowers. “I’ve known him since he was a baby, and I’ve never seen him so happy as when he was with you.”

“Have you lived here all your life?” Steve asked.

Natasha crouched down to look at the flowers more closely. “My home was a very beautiful place, but not long after I was born, there was a war. The rat king came and took control of everything. He tried to indoctrinate me and use me to help him take control of the Gingerbread Kingdom, but one of their lords stopped me and helped me see that I was being used for evil.”

Steve looked at her. She seemed so calm, so sure of herself. That anyone could have done that to her was almost unbelievable.

“I’m sorry,” he said, although it felt inadequate.

Standing back up, Natasha brushed off her skirt like she was brushing away the memories.

“You don’t need to be. But I’m happy you saved Bucky from that.”

She took his arm and led him through the gardens a little more, until they reached a little area with small trees and desert plants. There was a buzzing near Steve’s face, and he stepped out of the way of whatever bug wanted to pass.

A line of ants crossed over the garden pathway towards the plants, and congregated near one of the bushes.

Something buzzed past Steve again, and he watched the little bug as it landed on a flower, then flew into the air.

There was a high-pitched noise, and Steve looked over again to see a man appear out of thin air.

And if that wasn’t enough, the man seemed to be riding a giant ant.

“Good job, Ant-thony,” he said, removing his Stetson and wiping his brow on his sleeve before giving the ant a pat on the side like it was a horse. He looked up at them as he dismounted from the ant, then pressed something on its side. The ant disappeared with the same sound as before. “Sorry about flying around you like that,” he said to them. “There was a breeze.”

“That’s fine, Scott,” Natasha said.

Scott opened a box and dumped it out on to the ground. A pile of berries and sliced fruit fell out, and it was quickly swarmed by ants. He put his hat back on and pressed something on his belt. As he shrunk back down, he tipped his hat to them.

“What’s he doing?” Steve asked Natasha as they stepped over the ants still trailing over the path.

“Training. He works with them for an hour every day.”

Steve wanted to ask _how_ Scott was training the ants, but was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a _thunk_ on the other side of a tall hedge.

Natasha let go of him and ran to the end of the hedge. Steve followed her, dread filling him when he heard a second _thunk_.

He heard clapping as he turned the way Natasha had, and found a large field where Natasha cheering for two kids. The little girl was holding a bow while the boy giggled at the dance Natasha was doing.

A man Steve didn’t recognize walked up holding two arrows.

“Can we go again? Please?” the little girl asked, and then froze when she saw Steve. “Papa, that’s…”

“Yes, it is.” The man replied, looking at Steve with the same intensity as the girl.

The little boy was at Steve’s side before Steve realized he’d started moving. “Wanda knew!” he said. “She saw you coming.”

The man trotted up to Steve and picked up the little boy, throwing him over his shoulder. The boy giggled and squirmed in the man’s arms. “Sorry about Pietro,” he said. “He likes meeting new people.” He let the boy jump out of his arms and brushed himself off a little. “I didn’t get to meet you when you arrived. I’m Clint.”

Steve shook Clint’s hand. “I’m Steve.”

“Yeah, I know. Wanda’s the one who saw what how we’d be saved.” Clint nodded at the little girl, who was waving her bow around like a sword.

Natasha was kneeling with Pietro, helping him aim at a target.

“I’m going to look for Bucky,” he said to Clint. “Will you let Natasha know?”

“Of course. Enjoy your walk.”

Steve waved at Wanda as he left through the gap in the hedges.

He couldn’t see over the hedges well enough to find the palace, so he went back the way he’d come with Natasha. The ants were gone when he passed the little desert garden, and Bruce wasn’t in his gazebo any longer.

A man was standing at the edge of the fountain. He turned as Steve approached and bowed to him.

“Good evening.”

“Hello.”

Steve joined him at the fountain.

“The waters here are said to heal those who are ill,” the man said. “I have visited often for that purpose.”

“Why?”

The man looked at him again. “The curse affected our entire world. This country was placed in eternal darkness. My home was struck with a plague.” He bent down and placed his hand in the spray of the water. “My father has been ill, and I was made regent in his stead.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said.

“You do not need to apologize. The curse has been lifted, and I received word that he is recovering.” He turned to Steve again and placed a hand on his heart, bowing. “I, T’Challa, on behalf of my family, would like to thank you.”

“Uh.” Steve floundered a little, feeling unworthy of T’Challa’s thanks. “You’re welcome?”


	15. Chapter 15

A thick mist began to form around the fountain; the droplets of water that splashed up from the jets of water hung in the air like ornaments hanging from a tree. Before long, the fountain was almost completely obscured by the droplets.

There was a sound like thunder rumbling in the distance, and a man stepped out of the fountain. Steve would’ve expected his hair and clothing to be dripping wet, but he was bone dry.

As his feet touched the cobblestone path, the water droplets all crashed back down into the fountain.

“Good evening, my friends,” he said, bowing.

Steve and T’Challa bowed in return.

“How is Lady Jane?” T’Challa asked.

Thor smiled. “My beloved is well. Her observations of the rings of Saturn have been successful.” He looked up, his eyes finding a bright spot in the sky.

“She can return, now that the curse is broken,” T’Challa said.

“Yes.” Thor chuckled, a sound like a gentle rainstorm. “But I doubt it will be so easy to tempt her back.” He gave the night sky one last look before glancing at Steve. “Has the prince been called away again?”

“No. He still hasn’t come back from changing his clothes for dinner.”

Frowning, Thor walked to a pillar that was covered in one of the flowering vines. “Where is the prince?” he asked it.

“I’m sorry, sir. I haven’t seen him since he left the gardens,” the voice said.

Steve felt a chill go down his spine.

“Please gather the others. I believe something is wrong.”

“Yes, sir.”

Thor turned back to Steve. “Come with me.”

As they turned to the path that led back to the palace, the was a crashing noise that shook the ground beneath their feet.

Steve didn’t have time to wait for Thor—he ran to the palace, and stopped in his tracks when he saw that one of the walls facing the gardens was half gone. Smoke billowed from the hole and flowed into the gardens, throwing everything into darkness.

“The curse!” Steve heard Thor say behind him, his voice muffled despite their proximity.

He was close enough to see into the palace now, and the sight made his blood run cold. The King was on the ground, Rebecca and the twins huddled beneath him.

Steve cast his eyes around the room before walking in through the destroyed wall and, when he saw that the room was empty except for them, he crept in to check on them.

All of them were breathing, but there were several lines of deep scratches in George’s back that bled sluggishly through his jacket.

“Steve?” he heard behind him. Bruce was there with Thor, his brow creased. “What happened?”

“I don’t know.”

Bruce crouched by George and the kids and started checking them over.

“Stay with them,” Steve told him, “I’ll look for Bucky and the Queen.”

“Sir,” the disembodied voice said, “If you wait here for a moment, the others will arrive shortly.”

“We’re here, J, but I think we’ll need your help.” Steve heard Tony say behind him.

“Yes, sir,” the voice said.

The vines that hung throughout the palace started to grow; long, thick vines sprouted downwards until they touched the floor. They braided themselves together to form legs and arms that attached to a final piece that shaped itself into a torso.

A huge flower bud sprouted where the body’s neck should have been, and bloomed to reveal a face the same shade of red as the flowers.

“Ready, Vision?” Tony asked.

The newly-formed man turned his eyes on Steve. They seemed to glow with some internal light, and seemed to observe him the way Steve scrutinized his drawings.

“Yes.” That inhuman gaze finally left Steve to glance at the others, who were gathered around the hole in the wall.

“Where’s Clint?” Tony asked.

“Still in the gardens. He doesn’t want the kids nearby if anything happens,” Natasha replied.

Tony looked thoughtful. “Pep, Rhodey, can you make sure they stay safe?”

“I’m sure Clint can keep them safe,” Pepper replied.

“They’ll be safer with you there.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes. “Fine. We’ll go, but you better be safe, too.”

Tony’s shoulders relaxed as they left.

Vision spoke up again. “I last saw the prince near his quarters. I suggest we begin looking for him there.”

“And the queen?”

“She was with the king when the attack occurred.”

“Who attacked them?”

“I don’t know, nor do I know where the queen went afterwards.”

Steve followed the others to Bucky’s rooms on the third floor of the palace. Wisps of smoke drifted out from under his door. It was the same thick, black smoke as they’d seen before.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Tony said. “The curse was broken, how can it be returning?”

“Do you see anything strange in the palace or the grounds?” Natasha asked Vision.

The flowers in the room all swung to each side.

“No.”

“Is there anywhere you _can’t_ see?” Steve asked.

“There are no flowers on the roof. I can’t see where they don’t grow.”

“They must be up there, then.”

Steve looked around, and his eyes fell on a window. “Is there any way to get to the roof?”

“There’s a ladder in the gardens,” Scott replied.

Thinking about the time they’d already wasted, Steve shook his head. “There isn’t enough time.” He stuck his head out the window. “Can any of you get to the roof from here?”

Vision, Scott, T’Challa, Natasha, and Sam all nodded.

“Sam, Natasha, and T’Challa, you’re with me, the rest of you, come up by the ladder and help us if needed.”

The others left the room, and Steve stood on the windowsill so he could start climbing up the side of the building, clinging to the ledges. Natasha wasn’t far behind, but Sam and T’Challa took longer to follow.

Steve saw something fly out of the window, and he looked over his shoulder to see that it was Sam.

A pair of wings covered his arms and he glided into the gardens before swinging around and flying up to the roof.

T’Challa finally exited the window, clinging to the wall with just his hands, but he stayed behind Steve and Natasha as they climbed.

When they reached the roof, Sam’s wings were gone.

“How did you do that?” Steve asked quietly.

Sam pressed a finger to his lips, but smirked anyway.

Steve looked around, but he didn’t see anything unusual.

The wind picked up, and he heard a voice in the distance.

“…Leave us alone?”

Steve’s heart raced in his chest to hear Bucky alive.

“Now, why would I want to do that when I can put all of you to good use?”

He started to walk in the direction of the voices.

“Put us to good use?” Bucky demanded. “Like you put Natasha to good use when you made her kill for you!?”

Natasha’s face stayed carefully blank as they approached the rise in the rooftops where Bucky and his captor were.

“There’s no reason for you to upset yourself,” the second voice said, and Steve felt enraged and chilled to hear Bucky spoken to like a particularly stupid child.

Steve climbed up the last few feet and peeked over the ledge.

Bucky’s arms and legs were tied, and he was sitting on the roof, scowling at the rat standing above him.

“I have great plans for you,” the rat said, and paused. It sniffed the air and looked at Steve, its yellow teeth pulled into a savage grin. “Well, well, well. It looks like the savior has arrived,” the rat said, flicking its tail into Bucky’s face.

Steve felt his eyes widen as he looked at the rat. Its body was a dirty black, but its head was a bright white. Blood stained the fur at its neck and the skin of its belly hung open. There was a deep puncture wound in its chest.

“I need to thank you,” the rat said, pointing at the wounds on its body with one paw. “I would never have achieved all of this without you.”

“Don’t listen to him, Steve!” Bucky said, and grunted when the rat slammed its tail into him.

“I don’t think I gave you permission to speak,” the rat said to him, red eyes still on Steve.

“Let him go,” Steve growled.

Sneering, the rat stepped back to where Bucky was curled up on the ground. “You aren’t really in a place to make demands, _boy_.” It grabbed Bucky’s hair and yanked on it.

Steve vaulted over the rooftop, ignoring Sam’s shout for him to stay put.

The rat dodged his attack more easily than it had dodged Bucky’s. It grabbed Steve’s arm and twisted it behind his back, its tail wrapped around Bucky’s neck.

“I don’t have a lot of strength in my tail,” it said into Steve’s ear, its breath smelling like blood and decay, “but I have enough to make you understand that you don’t want to resist me.”

Steve froze.

“I don’t care what happens to me, Steve,” Bucky croaked. “Just get out of—”

“Buck, shut up.” Steve said, trying to breathe as shallowly as possible, but the rat’s stench filled his nose and mouth. “I’m not leaving without you.”

The rat sneered. “You might have had a chance if you hadn’t rushed in, and now you’ll both serve me.”

A part of Steve regretted what he’d done, wished he’d never gotten up from his bed, never tried to save Bucky, never loved him.

Smoke started to pour off of the rat, thick and choking.

The rat chuckled into Steve’s ear.

Steve looked over and saw Natasha, Sam and T’Challa over the rooftop. If he hadn’t loved Bucky, they’d be as doomed as Steve and Bucky were in the rat’s clutches. He thinks of the others: Bucky’s family,  Bruce, Clint, Wanda, Pietro, and everyone else he had met.

And he thought of Bucky, how he’d saved Steve from the rat in his living room, how he’d refused to throw him off the tree.

The smoke dissipated like a candle being snuffed out.

“Do you think it matters?” the rat said, digging its claws into Steve’s throat. “Curse or no curse, I’ll kill them all.”

“I think not,” a woman said.

Steve looked towards her voice and saw Bucky’s mother standing on the rooftop, glowing like the sun.

“You have come into my kingdom, attacked my family, and threatened the life of my son.”

Winifred held a wand in her left hand. She pointed it at the rat. “I’m a little out of practice, but we both know I’m strong enough to make you regret fighting me.”

The rat hissed, then let out a shriek, releasing Steve. He collapsed forward to see the rat clutching its knee. An arrow protruded past the rat’s claws.

Steve unwrapped its tail from around Bucky’s neck and started untying the ropes around his ankles. He pulled Bucky up to standing and got him to the relative safety of the other side of the roof.

Winifred flicked her wrist and a beam of light left her wand. It struck the rat like a physical object, and the rat braced its feet on the roof to keep itself from moving.

Making a figure-eight in the air, Winifred spoke a word that Steve didn’t understand, but it shook the world like an earthquake.

A circle of light appeared behind the rat, and it hissed again as it was pushed closer and closer to the light.

“It isn’t working,” Steve heard Bucky say beside him. “The world is still weakened by the curse, it can’t get him out.”

“What’s she doing to it?” Steve asked.

“Sending it back to your world. There, it’s just a normal rat, but here, it’s… chaos—and destruction.”

Steve looked up at Winifred. Her lips were pursed and sweat dripped down her forehead.

“How can we help her?”

Bucky shook his head. “Push the rat into the light—but it would mean being sent back as well!” Bucky cried as Steve got to his feet. “Steve, you’ll be cast out from here!”

“I have to help,” Steve replied. “I can’t let it win.”

Bucky’s eyes were bright with tears. “Please, I… I don’t want to lose you.”

Steve smiled, hoping he looked braver than he felt. “You won’t. I’ll still love you.”

Standing alongside Steve, Bucky stared at him like he was trying to memorize Steve’s face.

Then he leaned closer and captured Steve’s lips in a kiss.

Steve had never been kissed before, but as Bucky pulled away, his mouth quirked in a slightly crooked smile and his eyes giving away his fear of rejection, he wanted _more_.

He placed a hand on Bucky’s cheek and led him closer.

Their foreheads touched, and Steve could taste Bucky’s breath in the shared space.

Feeling himself starting to tremble, Steve closed his eyes, then opened them. He wanted to _see_ Bucky.

Steve moved slowly so Bucky would be able to pull away if he changed his mind.

But he didn’t—Bucky stared right back at him, a dare and a wish all at once as Steve pressed their lips together.

Steve had heard what girls said about kisses: it was like fireworks or cake or singing.

They were wrong and right. Kissing Bucky was like an earthquake tearing the world apart, like a storm helping it grow, like snow on a mountaintop, like shooting stars in the night sky. It was like every good thing he’d ever experienced, every moment of power he’d ever felt. It felt like the moment the world was made from a universe of nothingness, when light and matter were formed.

Breaking apart, Steve felt remade, but he knew a part of him had been taken and placed inside Bucky. He didn’t know how he’d go home and live his life without that piece of himself, but he had a feeling that Bucky felt the same.

“I love you,” he whispered, and pulled away before he could lose his nerve.

“I love you too,” Bucky said, just loud enough for Steve to hear him over the rat’s shrieking.

Steve looked at him one final time before leaping back over the rooftop.

The rat was on all fours, snarling as its tail was pulled into the light. It reared back up onto its hind legs as Steve neared it and screeched at him.

He glanced behind him to where Winifred was perched. She shook with the effort of trying to push the rat out.

“I appreciate your willingness to sacrifice yourself,” she said, “but I must tell you, you may never be able to return if you make this choice.”

“I know. But I’d rather never come back and know all of you are safe.” He took a deep breath, remembering the kisses he shared with Bucky. “I’m willing to pay this price.”

“So be it,” Winifred said.

The rat bared its teeth at Steve. “Do you think this will make any difference? There is no defeating Hydra. Cut off one head—”

Steve slammed his shoulder into the rat, sending it flying back. He tried to keep his footing, but the rat falling into the light made it feel like a whirlpool, sucking him in as well.

Wind rushed past his ears, but he could’ve sworn he heard Bucky screaming his name as he fell.


	16. Chapter 16

Steve’s head ached as he opened his eyes. He was in his family’s living room, but it wasn’t huge any longer.

He heard a squeaking noise and looked around to find the rat hobbling away, its damaged leg an obvious hindrance.

The room spun when Steve tried to sit up, and he tried to concentrate long enough to do something about the rat.

He looked over to the table. The heavy glass punch bowl was still there.

Steve got to his feet and grunted as he lifted it, realizing he was small again.

The rat saw him and tried to run, but its leg dragged behind it, and it squeaked feebly every time the leg moved.

Steve turned the bowl upside down and trapped the rat under it. The rat hissed, the noise muffled by the thick glass, and threw itself against the side of the bowl. The bowl didn’t even budge.

Sitting back against the cabinet where the nutcracker had been, Steve gasped for breath, his stomach turning.

His eyes felt heavy, and Steve didn’t think he would’ve been able to move if he tried.

Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to sleep. The rat was caught, and it wasn’t like he could do anything else with it.

He dreamed of sweets… and Bucky.


	17. Chapter 17

Steve’s head ached like someone had been pounding on it.

“Jack, stop that!” he heard someone say.

Opening his eyes, Steve found Jack sitting on the floor in front of him, striking his drum and cackling.

“Sorry, Steve,” his Aunt Clara said, her face apologetic.

“What happened?” Steve asked, sitting up. He was on the sofa now, instead of the floor, and the punch bowl was nowhere to be seen. “Where’s the—”

His godfather walked in, carrying bowl. “Good morning, Steven,” he said, placing the bowl back on the table.

“Have you dealt with that horrible rat, Abraham?” Aunt Clara asked, snatching the drumsticks out of Jack’s hand and replacing them with his stuffed rabbit.

“Yes,” Abraham replied. “It won’t be troubling anyone again.” His eyes landed on Steve, as if he was saying it to _him_ instead of Aunt Clara.

“Thank heavens! I thought I was going to faint when I saw it.”

Jack jumped up and threw his rabbit into the air. “Fly! Fly!” he said. When he caught it, he flapped its ears like a bird’s and ran up the stairs, tossing it upwards with every other step.

Clara sighed and followed her son.

Abraham sat on the sofa near Steve’s feet. “I thought you might want this, Steve.” He handed the nutcracker to Steve.

Its arm was bound to its side by the handkerchief as it had been the night before.

“But this isn’t—” Steve began, but Abraham held up a hand to stop him.

“Did you enjoy your dream?” he asked, and Steve froze.

It couldn’t have been a dream. It _couldn’t_!

“I…” Steve said. “I had a nice dream, godfather.”

He wanted to cry. He wasn’t a _baby_ anymore, he should have known that none of it was real.

Abraham gave him a pat on the head and stood up.

Steve looked around. The room looked exactly as it had at night: the dollhouse was in the corner near the shelf, the toy soldiers were in boxes under the tree.

He couldn’t stand the sight of it all.

He passed two girls as they raced down the stairs to play with their new toys, giggling.

Steve’s bedroom was quiet and dark, the curtains undrawn since he had gotten up in the middle of the night.

There was a knock at his door.

“Steve?” his mother called. “Are you alright?”

Steeling himself, Steve walked back to his door. He smiled for her and pretended to be fine.

“We have visitors,” his mother said, pressing a warm hand to his back. “Your godfather’s cousins and their children.”

Steve didn’t want to meet them. He wanted to be alone and cry, but his mother and father would worry if he did.

He walked with her to the stairs, where he saw a little group of people chatting with Abraham.

“Ah, Steven!” his godfather said. “I would like you to meet my nephew.” He ushered a boy forward, and Steve’s jaw dropped.

The boy was about Steve’s age, with brown hair and icy blue eyes. He smiled crookedly at Steve.

“This is James,” Abraham said.

The boy made a face. “Nobody calls me _James_. Call me Bucky.”

“Bucky…” Steve whispered as he was introduced to Bucky’s parents, both of whom held a baby, and little sister, and it felt more like a dream than the Land of Sweets ever had.

“C’mon, Steve!” Bucky laughed, grabbing his wrist. “Let’s go play!”

Steve followed him, feeling bemused.

“Bucky, I…” Steve said when they were out of earshot of the others. “I don’t understand.”

Bucky grinned at him. “What’s there to understand? I’m here!”

Steve shook his head and pull his hand out of Bucky’s grasp. “You said I wouldn’t be able to go back. You—You didn’t—”

“We can return whenever we want,” Bucky said. “So don’t be worrying about that.”

“But… you were older…”

Bucky shrugged. “It is a _little_ odd. But sometimes forms change when moving between dimensions. That’s why the rat king was so much larger.” He put his hands on his hips. “Now what are you frowning about?”

“It wasn’t a dream?” Steve asked, feeling stupid. “It was real?”

“It was real—oof!” Bucky caught Steve as he hugged him tightly.

“I never thought I’d see you again.” Steve whispered. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”

Bucky looked around and pressed his lips to Steve’s cheek. “You’ll have to do more than that to get rid of me,” he said into Steve’s ear. “You’re not going anywhere without me by your side.”


	18. Chapter 18

The sun warmed the earth gently, like an awakening on a lazy day. 

Snow covered every surface like whipped cream: soft and brilliant and sweet.

The streets were filled with people, red-cheeked from the cold, but filled with mirth, greeting one another and recalling distant memories, or creating new memories to remember the next time that darkness fell.

In the houses, it was a time of new beginnings, of rebirth. The fires were lit by the hearts filled with hope, the homes warmed by love.

Two children left the warmth of a house to toss snowballs at one another, uncaring of the cold outside. They had begun the life they would live together.

The path before them would not always have the kindness of the whipped cream world in which they played—they would experience hate and unkindness and cruelty, but they would also see love and tenderness and compassion.

They would face trials and misfortune, but they would never part.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on [my tumblr!](lourdesdeath.tumblr.com)


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